A reporter, not a preacher. A philosopher, not a hedonist.
The reason I chose to write about my exploits in Thailand's red-light district is that it's a dark side of tourism that only journalists venture into to judge, either the locals who are pushed into these professions by poverty or the "immoral" foreigners who do this. And, given the recent news about Oxfam, it's quite topical.
When you visit another country, it's all about the rose-tinted paradise you dream when you're stuck on a train. Every country has its challenges and perceived "not so good" parts, but here is where you find the truth, the life and the most amount of water-cooler moments.
As a Londoner, a trained journalist, a post-grad philosophy student, a senior manager in the creative industries and a first generation Brit, I sound a lot like any other "metropolitan elite". However, these aren't the stories I'm interested in. I want to step away from all that. I want to see the rough, dark side to tourism. And to know how globalisation has impacted society and the environment outside of our own bubble. A bit like a gritty Simon Reeve. But a woman. Who likes being in the throng of a city. And immersed in ancient ruins, customs and art.
So much travel writing is about your average, white, young, middle-class, party-animal. It's all thrills, spills and belly-aches. Trotting the globe on the parental dime and their colonial privilege giving them a sense of entitlement when they explore far-flung climbs.
I'm sure when people think of backpacking, they think of two things; a journey akin to Instagram's Saviour Barbie or people who really like bungee jumping into canyons. My philosophy is a simple one, if you could do it anywhere, why waste a fortune doing somewhere spectacular.
I could teach English to Syrian refugees in my hometown, I don't need to go Accra to do it for a false sense of altruism to gain digital me points. I could help out in a rough inner-city school in Moss-side, I don't need to go to the favelas in Rio. I could just as easily jump off Severn Bridge, I don't need to head to Sydney to do it.
I fit into two of these demographics, but with my investigative journalist's hat on and my complete lack of inhibition, I go into local shops, cafes, community centres, homes and events to get the real story of what's going on in that place. From a political, cultural and historical perspective.
When I travel, I much prefer to see it from the perspective of a woman in Muscat or black woman in Rome or a solo traveller in Serbia or an LGBT tourist in Texas or a Muslim in Xi'An and a middle-aged person tubing in Vang Vieng. Or simply see it through the eyes of the person who lives there.
What makes Thailand special, away from where's best to get drunk and high on a beach? What challenges to local people face? What happens when it's out of season? What are the golden nuggets and hidden gems, away from the Lonely Planet trail? What are the bits of culture diluted or bypassed due to Western tastes? And what are the most incredible (or eccentric) bits of culture?
My friends say I have an amazing ability to cut through the noise and glean hidden information from people. And my manager (who's at director level) says my gift for influencing and building rapport is the biggest feather in my leadership cap... But enough of the hats.
I'm basically bored reading the standard travel experience. I think it's time travelling writing got to the heart of the matter; blending journalism with travel. Not just talking about best cafes to watch the sunset, but the best cafes to meet artists or the best out-of-season cafes or the dark world behind the cafe.
